


Dining In

by strangeallure



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boss/Employee Relationship, Cooking, Dinner Party, Food, M/M, Office Party, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared's new at Fresh Promotions, and when he offers to help out his boss, Jensen, with the end-of-year staff party, it's more or less an accident. But one borrowed dress shirt and a snowstorm later, Jared finds himself in an even more unexpected situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dining In

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a spn-j2-xmas gift for obstinatrix. A big _thank you_ to the mods for organizing and to scintilla10 for the wonderful beta and title.
> 
> First posted on LJ in January 2012.

“Damn, damn, damn,” Jared hears Jensen mutter under his breath. “This isn’t happening. This just isn’t happening.”

It’s unusual to hear his boss sound so … defeated, for lack of a better word, and it throws Jared for a loop. The three months Jared’s been working at Fresh Promotions, Jensen's always seemed so put together and in charge. Where Jared sees a client budget that's impossible to stick to, Jensen finds a way to make it work. Where Jared sees an impossible deadline, Jensen finds a way to keep it. To see him like this, face in his hands and fingers rubbing at his eyes, is completely new and a little disconcerting.

Jared tries for a casual voice when he asks, “Hey, what’s up?”

Jensen looks up at him for a moment before his gaze sweeps the empty office and then lands back on Jared. He answers in an almost-whine that’s also new. “The world hates me.”

“Most of the world doesn’t even know you,” Jared says, because that’s just the kind of nice and empathetic guy he is. Fortunately, it makes one corner of Jensen’s mouth quirk up.

“Okay,” Jensen concedes with something precariously close to a pout, “so only our suppliers, the gods of health and the people at the grocery delivery service hate me.” If it weren’t completely inappropriate, Jared would think that his boss looks adorable right about now.

“Really?” Jared begins to see where this is going. “Even the people at the grocery delivery service?”

“I’m ninety-nine percent sure,” Jensen sighs. “Because I really don’t want to believe that they’re messing up everyone’s orders this badly. Otherwise, they should have been out of business a long time ago. I mean, who loses a whole delivery van?” He shakes his head. “Danneel will be _delighted_. I’m never going to live this down.”

Jared is pretty sure he knows what Jensen’s talking about now. “Is this about your Thanksgiving-turned-Christmas-turned-New Year’s dinner – again?”

Jensen nods. He looks a little pathetic, even if he also manages to look pretty hot at the same time. Jensen’s had a run of bad luck when it comes to the traditional end-of-year dinner at Fresh Promotions.

From what Jared understands, it began with an impromptu take-out session when Jensen and Danneel first started the company six years ago and has grown into a multiple-course affair the week after Thanksgiving, hosted by a different colleague each year. This year, it's Jensen’s turn for the first time. But when one of their suppliers went bankrupt right before Thanksgiving, there had been so much stress and overtime that they'd pushed the date back to the week before Christmas – when a stomach bug had hit the office and forced them to postpone their dinner party again to the Friday before New Year’s. Danneel has been saying since November that Jensen's had a hand in those two incidents because he knew his cooking skills wouldn’t hold up to her “five-star extravaganza” the year before. It was obviously a joke, but Danneel was still delighted to keep needling Jensen and really get his competitive streak going.

“Can I help you with anything?” Jared asks.

“You helped me enough just by staying late to help me finish up the Murray job.” Jensen gives him a tired smile. “I guess it’ll have to be Boston Market and Ben & Jerry’s this year.”

It’s ridiculous how forlorn he looks, and Jared never would have thought that his confident, in-control boss could appeal to his protective instincts, but there you go.

“No way,” Jared says. “After looking forward to my first legendary Fresh Promotions dinner _for months_ , I’m not going to let you get away with Boston Market.” He puts on his brightest smile. “We still have a couple hours tonight and a couple more tomorrow between work and dinner. I’ll help you throw something together.” And because Jared’s mouth obviously has more confidence in his abilities in the kitchen than his brain, he adds, “We’re going to impress them all – even Danneel.”

\--

Less than twenty-four hours later, the person most impressed with their meal is Jared himself. He’s also royally screwed on the ‘crushing on your boss’ front.

Professionally, he and Jensen have been a pretty good team from the start, but even though the atmosphere in their office is friendly – at a company of only six people it had better be – Jensen always seemed to keep a bit of a distance towards Jared.

Between coming up with alternate recipes that require less prep time and none of the hard-to-come-by items in the botched delivery service order (thank you, Google and Martha Stewart), shopping together and working side-by-side in Jensen’s well-equipped kitchen, Jared has reached a point where he can honestly see himself falling for his boss. He knows it’s mostly due to the false domesticity of it all: trawling the aisles of the grocery store together, getting some last-minute decorations, seeing Jensen not in a business suit for once, but in faded jeans and a t-shirt, standing barefoot at the counter as he’s chopping produce and stirring ingredients together, starting to whistle a little once it becomes clear that their meal is going to work out.

They’re busy spooning crumbled blue cheese and chopped pistachios onto dried apricots, when Jared sees Jensen catch his own reflection in the kitchen window.

“Shit,” Jensen says, laughing a little as he flicks a bit of cheese from his crumpled sleeve, “the others will be here soon, and I look like a mess.”

Jared’s first impulse is to object, but instead he smiles back and says, “Maybe a little.”

Jensen flicks an imaginary bit of cheese at him.

“Come on,” Jared says, grabbing a dish towel to clean stray pieces of blue cheese and honey drizzle off the serving plate. If you’re in the business of making promotion materials, you learn that presentation is at least half the experience. “You go take a shower, get ready for your guests. I’ll finish this up.”

“Are you sure?” Jensen asks, but he’s already starting in the direction of the bathroom.

“Very sure. I want this to be perfect,” Jared winks, “because I fully intend to take half the credit.”

Instead of joking back, Jensen says, “Thanks, Jared,” and it sounds sincere, maybe even fond. “I really appreciate it.”

“Now get out of here.” Jared flicks his wrist, and it takes a lot of willpower to not slap Jensen’s butt with the dishtowel when he turns around.

\--

Jared’s just finished arranging several bottles for the welcome cocktail along with the plates of appetizers - there are beautiful apricot canapés and endive spears filled with freshly-made hummus - when the doorbell rings.

It’s Danneel, Genevieve, Katie and Misha, with their coats in hand and a few ice crystals in their hair. They’re dressed up, the women wearing gowns and jewellery, and Misha sporting a _frock coat_ and an honest-to-goodness _cravat_. If it weren't for the messy hair, he could have walked straight out of a period drama. Not that Jared watches those religiously on PBS or anything.

“Come in,” he says, suddenly hyper-aware of his own messy hair – unlike Misha’s, his is not mussed up in a carefully sculpted way – and the stains on his shirt. He didn’t even bring a change of clothes. “Did you carpool or something?” Jared quietly asks Genevieve as everyone is hanging up their coats.

“All took the train so we could properly take advantage of Jensen’s liquor cabinet,” she replies, grinning.

“How about cocktails first?” a voice asks close to Jared. He didn’t even hear Jensen approach.

When Jared turns around, he really, really wants to gasp. Jensen looks gorgeous. Suave yet relaxed, in a crisp shirt and three-piece suit with the collar casually undone; the vest alone almost gives Jared a heart attack.

“Dressed to impress, I see,” Danneel says as she hugs Jensen and kisses him on the cheek. “Let’s see if your dinner measures up.” Her smile is warm and her hand on his waist lingers for a moment - it’s entirely clear that she just enjoys teasing him.

“I always measure up,” Jensen says in a smoky voice and leers at her a little, which only serves to crack her up.

“Oh please, Jensen,” she coos, her fingers flying to her mouth in faux shock, “not in front of the children.”

“Didn’t you mention drinks, Jensen?” Genevieve asks, paying their back-and-forth no mind.

“I did.” He raises his eyebrows at her. “And I _always_ keep my promises,” he adds.

“Then how about you start popping some corks?” Katie chimes in, helpfully handing Jensen a bottle.

“Yeah,” Misha says, “we weathered that snow chaos outside to get here, the least you can do is warm us up from the inside.”

Just a moment ago, Jared was bustling around happily in Jensen’s apartment, but with his colleagues joking so effortlessly, like the old friends he knows they are, he suddenly feels a little left out. It occasionally happens at the office, too: someone mentions the Anselmo account and everyone but Jared cracks up or someone calls Misha _Mr. Dynamite_ and he never fails to turn an interesting shade of red. Mostly, Jared feels like part of the team by now, even though he’s the first new hire in two years.

Not now, though, looking like a slob at an upscale fundraiser, completely out of place among a tight-knit group of donors.

Jensen opens the bottle of champagne and when a significant amount of it bubbles over and spills onto the cloth napkin wrapped around the neck, everyone but Jared whoops.

“You don’t have to shower us in champagne, you know? It’s not like we just won the World Series,” Danneel says, laughing.

As Jensen pours drinks for everyone, he gives Jared a friendly look and a smile. “How about you take a shower, too?” he asks, then adds more quietly, “I laid something to wear for you out on the bed.”

Jared is grateful for the suggestion, and when he sees Danneel and Genevieve exchange looks as he turns to rush off, he simply brushes it off. “Good idea,” he says, “see you all in a few.”

\--

The dinner’s a success.

So maybe the vegetables could have used another sixty seconds in the steamer and maybe Jensen was a little generous with the black pepper when making the gravy, but overall, it’s going great.

In spite of everyone’s formal attire, the meal has a familial feel to it, with Katie deciding to put the pots and pans on the table after the main course so everyone can get second helpings and Misha warming up some rolls he finds in Jensen’s freezer to better mop up the gravy on their plates. The comfortable atmosphere is helped along by everyone following Genevieve’s example when she takes off her shoes. Misha even goes so far as to use his cravat as an additional napkin, which is a bit of a shame.

Jared’s no longer self-conscious about the tight fit of the pale rose-colored shirt Jensen laid out for him and has decided that, since he’s sitting most of the time anyway, it doesn’t really matter that the tuxedo pants are about two inches too short.

Jensen also seems to be enjoying himself now, seems happy, and he’s so relaxed about the whole screwed-up delivery by now that he even tells the story of how Jared “talked him off the ledge” in the office and helped him get everything ready in time. Jared knows he’s beaming with pride a little, but when Jensen peppers his story with small smiles in Jared’s direction, letting everyone know how much he appreciates the help, Jared finds that he just doesn’t care.

After they’ve had some time to recover from the main course, Jensen gets up from his seat and asks, “Ready for dessert?”

“If it’s as good as that glazed lamb – definitely,” Danneel says, patting her belly contentedly.

“Prepare to be dazzled,” Jensen says with a broad smile, and Jared follows him into the kitchen.

As Jensen gets working on the espresso machine, Jared finds small plates and layers the meringue they made earlier with whipped cream and the wine-poached pear slices they prepared the night before. He drizzles the concoction with syrup and adds a few sliced almonds to each plate.

When the first plate is ready, he can’t help smiling proudly. It looks quite spectacular, if Jared says so himself, and the aroma of wine, syrup and spices mixes pleasantly with the warm smell of the hideously expensive espresso Jensen bought at a specialty shop before work this morning.

Jensen’s almost done with the espresso and Jared tells him to take the coffee out while he prepares the rest of the desserts.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to slave away in the kitchen while I earn all the praise.” Jensen’s smile is small and genuine and it makes a little heat rise up in Jared’s belly.

“Don’t worry,” he forces his voice away from the more intimate depth it wants to go to into something more cheerful, “when I come out with the pear pavlova, I’ll make sure that all praise goes to me.”

Jensen’s eyes catch his for a moment and his smile seems more affectionate than anything else when he says, “You deserve it.”

Before the moment can stretch uncomfortably, Jensen starts putting his tiny espresso cups on the tray where the sugar bowl already sits and heads back to the others.

Jared takes a deep breath and prepares the remaining desserts. He can't find another tray, so he simply takes a plate in each hand and walks towards the door leading to the living-and-dining area. It’s slightly ajar and Jared’s about to bump it open with his elbow when he hears Danneel say, “You sly dog,” and something about it makes Jared stop and listen instead.

“What?” Jensen says on the other side of the door, sounding confused.

“You and Jared,” she says in a meaningful tone and Misha adds, “Yeah, when the hell did that happen?”

“And, even more important,” Genevieve says, “when did you learn to be discreet?”

Jared feels heat rising in his cheeks.

“Shut up,” Jensen says. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

One of the women laughs sharply, it might be Danneel. “As if.”

“Come on,” she continues, “he helps you with dinner – which is totally cheating, by the way –, gets the door like he lives here, and is even allowed to use your holiest-of-holies steam shower instead of the one in the guest room.”

“Don’t forget that he lets Jared wear his clothes,” Misha says in a _gotcha_ kind of voice.

“There’s nothing going on,” Jensen says, hushed but with authority. “He helped me because he was still at the office and is a nice guy. He needed to shower and he forgot to bring spare clothes.” He sighs, clearly exasperated. “I’m his boss. I can’t take advantage of my position like that. That would be completely unprofessional.”

Jared's breath catches. The way Jensen says it, it almost sounds like Jensen _would_ be interested if circumstances were different. Jared knows he should quit eavesdropping, but he leans closer instead, eager to hear the next words out of Jensen's mouth.

“Hasn’t stopped Danneel and Gen now, has it?” Katie says and there are unison giggles, presumably by the two aforementioned ladies. “And you can’t take advantage of _what_ position exactly? It’s not like you’re the president – and Jared’s a grown man, not a star-struck intern.”

“I hate you all,” Jensen says with a huff. “And now shut up, all of you. I don’t want Jared to hear any of this.”

Jared tiptoes back to the counter. He deliberately clanks the serving spoon against the bowl with the extra pear slices a couple of times and looks out the kitchen window at the snow still falling heavily in the dark sky before he picks up the two plates again and walks back in.

\--

It’s well past one by the time Genevieve takes out her phone to call a cab for everyone, but after a few minutes spend on hold, the conversation with the taxi company operator doesn’t seem to go as planned.

“There’s too much snow and the city won’t clear the roads till morning,” she says with a sigh. “Seems like we’re stuck here.”

“Sleepover!” Misha exclaims and claps his hands, the alcohol in his system making his eyes especially bright. “I call dibs on the guest bed – and on braiding Katie’s hair.”

“You wish,” Katie says, “on both counts.”

“But I can do French braids,” Misha counters, clearly convinced this is a huge draw.

“You also snore like a moose.” Katie turns towards Jensen and asks, “Does the couch fold out or do you have an air mattress or something?” She's obviously switched to project planner mode.

“Couch doesn’t fold out,” Jensen answers obediently, “but I have an airbed, only twin-sized, though.”

“Great,” Katie says and adds in her I’m-in-charge-here voice, “Danneel and Genevieve get the guest bed.” Both women make a victory gesture.

“Don’t celebrate too early, lovebirds,” Katie says, “I’ll also sleep in the guest room, but on the air mattress. There’s no way I’m staying in a room with the human chainsaw over there,” she points at Misha, whose only response is an exaggerated pout.

“Misha gets the couch,” she continues, and Misha perks up at that, “and Jared sleeps with Jensen.”

Jared almost chokes on air, but the others – minus Jensen – only snigger.

“I can sleep on the floor, no problem,” Jared hurries to say once he has his breath back.

Katie shoots him a look. “You’ve had, what, four hours of sleep, maybe five, because you helped _this guy_ ," she points at Jensen, "make a great dinner happen – no way you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Before Jensen can finish his own sentence starting with “Then I’ll just,” Danneel cuts him off: “Don’t be ridiculous, Jensen. Your bed is enormous. I know because it took us hours to put it together, remember?”

Jared and Jensen both shrug, somewhat resigned, and after they distribute all the blankets and cushions they can find in Jensen’s apartment and get t-shirts for everyone to sleep in, Jensen makes mulled wine and they all sit down together for a nightcap.

\--

Jared is feeling wine-warm and sleepy by the time they break up to go to their respective rooms, and when he finally shuts the door after one last insane story from Misha, he closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, deep and content.

When he turns around, Jensen’s already standing on the opposite side of the bed. Danneel is right, that thing _is_ enormous, easily big enough for Jensen and Jared and with room to spare. Jensen looks at Jared and says, “Alone at last,” with an unreadable smile.

Jared mutters a vague, “Yeah,” as he walks towards the bed, the biggest t-shirt Jensen could find from earlier in his hand. Jared turns his back to Jensen a little self-consciously and starts to undress.

“You were listening in earlier,” Jensen says just as Jared’s pulling his undershirt over his head. Jensen sounds casual, and Jared twists at the waist to look at him, arms still tangled in his shirt. He probably looks guilty.

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t know for sure until now,” Jensen says as he rounds the bed, “but I thought I saw your shadow disappear behind the door from where I was sitting.”

“I’m sorry,” Jared says, his mouth a little dry. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Jensen raises his eyebrow a little. “But you did.” He sounds confident - and much more sober than Jared feels.

Jared swallows.

“I watched out for the way you look at me after that.” Jensen’s voice takes on a conversational tone. “The thing about alcohol is, it makes your actions slower, makes everything look a little more subtle on the inside and a little less so on the outside.” Jared’s not entirely sure what Jensen’s talking about. “You look at my mouth a lot,” Jensen states it like the fact it is. “And you were checking me out when I went to make the mulled wine.”

Jared feels embarrassed, caught red-handed, and more than a little confused.

“So what do you think?” Jensen asks as if the question makes perfect sense.

Jared really doesn’t know how to read the situation, so all he can say is, “About what?”

Jensen steps closer, close enough that Jared imagines feeling his body heat, and looks Jared straight in the eyes. Jensen's voice is lower than only a moment ago. “Wouldn’t it be completely unprofessional if I came on to you?”

Jared feels more and more heat stir in his belly and rise up into his cheeks, and he’s painfully aware of the fact that he’s bare-chested while Jensen’s still in his slacks and shirt. At least the vest is gone. “I,” Jared starts, but suddenly he doesn’t remember how that sentence is supposed to go.

Jensen looks at him, Jensen _sees_ him, and suddenly Jared is absolutely certain that Jensen can read his mind.

Cocking his head to the side, Jensen continues slowly. “Especially when it’s late and we’re both a little drunk.” Jared feels one fingertip touch his belly right under his navel, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the movement of Jensen’s lips. “When your sense of judgment might be off.”

“I,” Jared tries again, and this time, he manages to croak out, “I think that’d be okay.”

A smile spreads slowly on Jensen’s face, dark and promising and the perfect match for the heat in his eyes.

The finger on Jared’s stomach traces a line around his waist and to the small of Jared's back before a warm hand settles there and pulls him in. Jared’s arms slide around Jensen mostly on instinct, and he can feel solid muscle and warm skin through the fabric of Jensen’s shirt. Jared distantly notices that his eyes close and his head falls to the side a little, but then all his senses seem centered around the wet warmth of Jensen’s mouth sliding over his, lips slow and exploratory and in seemingly no hurry at all. Jared opens his mouth for more, and a noise slips out that Jensen seems to like, because his hand comes up to Jared’s neck and pulls him in even closer.

Their mouths taste almost the same, of spices and alcohol and that almost cool sweetness of an amazing kiss. Jared knows that a snowstorm is raging outside, occasional gusts of cold wind rattling the blinds, but here on the inside, all Jared can feel, can even think about, is the delicious warmth of Jensen’s skin, and all he wants is to get closer, to get even more of that heat. Without meaning to, Jared pushes his hips forward.

Jensen pulls away.

“Well,” he says, voice raspy and so hot that Jared immediately tries to move in for another kiss, but Jensen holds him at arm’s length. “I, for one, think it would be very unprofessional.”

And again, Jared can’t fully make sense of the situation, but Jensen’s hands are still on his skin, so Jared can’t believe it’s all falling apart either.

“I don’t care,” he says, his own voice low in his ears.

“But I do.” Jensen kisses him on the nose, and it’s almost funny how it’s such a non-sexual yet tender thing to do. Jensen smiles at him. “I want to start this right,” he says.

It takes Jared a moment to guess what he means.

“You mean?” Jared says, eyes going wide, but unable to articulate the possibilities in Jensen’s statement.

Jensen strokes Jared’s waist even as he moves away, taking off all but his boxers and slipping under the covers. He gives Jared a deliberately sunny smile.

“I mean,” he says, and for the first time since Jared’s entered the bedroom, he notices the slight drag in Jensen’s voice, a sign that tonight’s drinking didn’t leave his boss as unaffected as Jared thought, “that I would really, really like to have sex with you right now. Hot, loud, filthy sex.” And yeah, Jared can totally get behind that.

“But I don’t want to do anything while we’re both drunk,” Jensen’s smile is still there, but his eyes are earnest. “If you still want to when we’re both sober, I’ll be more than happy to,” he stops and appears to search for the right word, scratching at the hair just over his ear as he does, “oblige,” he says with an almost dopey smile. “I’ll be more than happy to oblige you.”

A thought crosses Jared’s mind, instantly making him anxious. “And what if _you_ don’t want to any more?”

Jensen snorts a laugh. “Jared,” he says, voice tinged with incredulity. “You’re so hot I almost didn’t hire you.” He nods meaningfully. “And that was before I found out how funny and nice and amazing you are. I’ve been trying to be a good, professional boss for three months now. If you’re still game in the morning, I’m _definitely_ game, too.”

Jared can feel a smile on his face, wider and brighter than he's smiled in a long time. He pulls Jensen’s t-shirt over his head - it says “Born to Bingo” and only makes Jared smile harder - and then drops his slacks where he stands and slips into bed opposite Jensen.

He gives Jensen a sideways smile. “So,” he says, “no filthy hot sex tonight, right?”

“That’s right,” Jensen says, nodding gravely.

“And what about cuddling?”

Jensen deliberates for a moment. “I guess that’s okay,” he says with a soft, amused look. He motions for Jared to come closer, and Jared cuddles up against him. They turn and shift a little until they find the perfect position: Jared’s head resting on Jensen’s chest, Jensen’s heartbeat lulling him into sleep.


End file.
